Prince Bonir Vol. 03

The reverie of pleasure was interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. "Time's up, my lord," Eve whispered. It was a good thing she was keeping time; no man in the position I was in would have the resolve in and of himself to draw away otherwise, not even with the promise of exactly the same treatment two feet away. One long stride to the right and I stood before Sarah. Between her height and her minimal cleavage, her breasts did not rest on the armrest of the kneeler. Further, she was so tall she had to bend down slightly to give my penis full access to her throat. But with her long neck, my entire length fit in her throat comfortably; I found myself holding her long golden hair and reaching deeply into her throat in the occasionally successful attempt to feel her lips make contact with the flesh at the very base of the tower. I was astounded that not once did my burrowing cause her to gag.

As amazing as that was, my heart still leapt when the tap on my shoulder announced it was time to move on, for next was Galen. Galen possessed not only the flame-red hair I so admired, but veritable watermelons protruded from her chest. I eagerly grasped at her bust with both hands; when I put my hands under them, there was enough excess to hide my hands completely. I alternated between stroking their soft flesh and tweaking their nipples. At one point I cupped both hands under one breast, and found it could just barely rest comfortably in the combined space. However, Galen also turned out to be somewhat timid; she tried to replicate what she had seen Arla and Sarah accomplish, but only the first few inches of my length slipped past her lips, and then she didn't seem to have any sense as to what was the proper rhythm to maintain excitement. It dawned on me that this might not be something she'd ever done before, but neither was this the time to teach. After a few minutes I decided to go with her strengths rather than her shortcomings; I knelt on one knee and gently chewed on her nipple. She closed her eyes and sighed slightly. I then pressed the mounds together and moved my tongue rapidly back and forth from the one the other. Knowing my time with Galen for now was running short, I wished one more thing—I stood up, placed my member between her mounds, then squeezed them tightly around myself. I then rubbed myself up and down between them. Her breasts provided just the sort of arousing that she had not yet learned to provide with her tongue.

Time was up. I moved towards Helena, but as I did I caught a glimpse of Maris, and frankly, she seemed bored. I looked back at Arla and Sarah and they, too, were disinterested. It dawned on me that while I was constantly busy, they were consigned to kneeling for a half-hour with nothing to do between turns. And that was a waste, I realized, because there were other men here too. I found myself announcing an idea before I'd even thought it through. This amazing gift was one thing, and now I was asking the givers to do more than they'd expected—the whole thing could have blown up in my face. Fortunately, it did not. Since this Bacchanal was carnal in nature, why not turn it into a full-blown Roman orgy. "This gift is too wonderful for one man to enjoy!" I declared. "Jauffrey, guards, please give the ladies something to do while they kneel here. Fifteen gold pieces to the girl who satisfies the most men!"

My attention turned to Helena caressing me, but everyone else was caught by surprise. Was this OK? What should they do? Jauffrey made eye contact with Sarah, and her expression seemed to say "Well, why not? As long as I'm doing this anyway, better than kneeling here bored." So Jauffrey hesitantly loosened his tunic and approached her kneeler. As soon as she could reach, Sarah bent forward and swallowed him whole.

Once Jauffrey was involved, the two guards in the dining room wasted no time getting in on the action. One made a beeline to Galen and her massive jugs, the other placed himself where Arla could caress him. This was better—now four girls could be busy at the same time—and not every eye in the room was watching me the whole time.

"Time's up! Time to switch!" Eve now announced out loud so that we would all move on to the next girl. The guard to my right was now sucked by Helena, Jauffrey by Galen, and the last guard by Sarah. It was my turn now with Julienne. There was something maddeningly sexy about the way her breasts were sort of covered, sort of not by the open vest she wore. With a smile on my face I thrust my hands under the fabric and groped her breasts. For her part, Julienne was fixated on my crotch, stretching to get as close to it as she could. Her goal was to swallow me whole as Sarah had, but the structure of her neck and jaw just couldn't quite accommodate it. But she was persistent and would not give up the attempt, for which I was grateful.

I do not deny that I am a very privileged man, especially when it comes to pleasures of the flesh. My soldiers did not have the bountiful access to female flesh that I enjoyed, and so it took less stimulation to get them to achieve the ultimate objective. I heard a grunt to my left; peering over, it was obvious that the first guard had climaxed and was now erupting inside Sarah's mouth. "That's one for Sarah!" I announced cheerfully. Once spent, the guard shook his head, like he had been dreaming and suddenly awakened to find himself in a most unexpected situation. I called him over with my finger. He hastily readjusted his attire just as Eve called "time's up!"

We all moved one to the right. At last I had reached Maris, the wonderfully cunning mastermind of this party. She took me into her mouth, but here eyes were fixed up at me, reading my face for guidance as to how she could best please me. I looked back at those eyes, whose sole purpose at that moment was to bring me pleasure, and decided I was quite partial to that approach. The guard was now next to me, however, worried that despite my invitation I would be cross at him for having accepted.

"Good work man," I smiled slyly, slapping him on the back. He shrugged sheepishly. "But there are four other guards outside that have not had the chance you have. Go and relieve one of them that he might join the party." He smiled, nodded, and raced out the door. Minutes later, two guards peered in suspiciously, no doubt completely skeptical of the story they had just heard. I waved them over to join the fun.

The signal was given to switch, and I went back around to the start again with Arla. The two guards hurried over and took up positions to my right. I felt her pleasure me and played with the exposed breast, but my attention was also divided by the spectacle of the other men receiving favors from the good ladies of the Abbey. The face on the guard being serviced by Helena was simply comical, so twisted was it with disbelief at the sensations he was receiving. I didn't know for certain if any of the girls were virgins, but I'd bet the kingdom that he was.

My attention was then diverted to the end of the line, as the guard in front of Maris was just about there. I commented "Ah...ah..." by way of buildup. When he closed his eyes, arched his back and grabbed hold of Maris by the back of the head, there was no question he was done. "Score one for Maris!" I cried. "Maris and Sarah tied, 1-1."

"Time's up!" Eve announced. The guard that had just climaxed now went to relieve the two guards that had not yet had a chance to take part in the festivities. I never saw them arrive, however, for now I was back to Sarah, and in case she hadn't realized it before, she certainly knew now that her ability to engulf someone's manhood in it's entirety within her long throat was an especially prized gift. While I was interested in what was going on around me, the insistent pleasurable sensations of Sarah's long strokes refused to let go of my attention. Without even thinking, I rested my hands gently on her head. The guard in front of Julienne climaxed, but I was unaware—I couldn't say if someone updated the score or not. All I could think of was that gentle tongue and the way her throat could gently pressure the entire length of my sex. It was I that now closed my eyes and arched my back as my family jewels spit forth their contents.

"The score is now Sarah 2, Maris 1, and Julienne 1," I heard Eve's voice say behind me. "Time's up!" I returned to my senses slowly; first I became aware of Sarah, looking up at me wide-eyed. Then I realized that she couldn't move—I still held her head tightly over my penis. I let go of her hair and withdrew, allowing her to swallow the prize she had earned. I noted a faint smile on her face—perhaps pride that it had been she that had pleasured the Duke. Then I realized that there was a soldier standing quietly behind me and off to the side—I was holding up the line. I stepped back, bowing and gesturing as if to say "After you." He happily stood in front of Sarah, and without missing a beat she swallowed him whole.

I semi-staggered back to my throne to watch the rest of the show. In doing so, I almost missed half of it; I heard Eve say "Score one for Arla," and turned to see Jauffrey obviously experiencing absolute pleasure under Arla's tender ministrations. I smiled to see my captain getting off, only to then hear "score another for Maris." I turned and saw a guard twisted up in ecstasy before Maris' kneeler. "The score is now Sarah and Maris 2, Arla and Julienne 1, Helena and Galen still 0."

I asked Arianna to fill my goblet with mead, and sipped the cup as I watched the contest unfold. There were but two guards, the last to arrive, that could sway the outcome of the contest. One stood before Julienne, the other before Sarah. "Time's up," came the call, and each moved over one. Maris could all but guarantee victory if she succeeded in making the guard climax. She was watching his face closely and trying to her best to maximize his pleasure, but I think that he started to become self-aware of people watching him now, which inhibited him for being fully in the moment. The other, as all of us had done, had a ball playing with Galen's breasts, but her technique was not likely to bring anyone to ultimate satisfaction.

"Time's up!" came the call again. Helena and Arla now had a chance to add to their totals; the others could do nothing but watch. The guard before Helena cheated a little; with one hand he held her breast, with the other he reached back and continued to explore Galen's massive globes. With the best of both worlds at his fingertips so to speak, in no time Helena, too, ended up on the scoreboard.

There was now just one guard left. If Arla succeeded in pleasuring him, we would have a three way tie for first. I was deciding whether I should award three prizes, or organize a playoff. I wasn't quite ready to cast the tiebreaking, uh, vote just yet, but then again, with Sarah's throat...or Maris' breasts...

"Time's up" called Eve.

"Aww," Arla kidded. She probably would have needed another five minutes with him; now there was virtually no chance he'd get back to her. It also gave Sarah, arguably the most skilled of the lot, the chance to win outright.

The guard hadn't been to Sarah yet. You could tell from his body language when she first swallowed his entirety that he wouldn't be going any further. Sarah could tell, too, and relentlessly increased his arousal. With plenty of sand still in the hourglass, his back stiffened, and it was plain that he was in the throes of climax.

"Hurrah!" I exclaimed, "well done!" He now slouched his shoulders and backed away, straightening his clothes. Sarah stuck out her tongue, providing proof of her victory in the event any doubted it. I reached into the sack of coins and retrieved the winner's prize. All six of the girls, with some difficulty, stood up. Eve was already busily unlocking each girl's wrists. I walked over to Sarah and, once her arms were freed, handed her the prize. "Here you go," I said, "for a job very, very well done."

Another of the resident's popped out from the back of the room. "Hail Caesar," she cried, "my Lord's dinner is ready! Does Caesar wish to eat at this time?"

"Yes, by all means, let us eat," I replied.

There was one table set, with four settings. "This will not do," I declared, "there are not just four of us here; there are at least six guards and at least six residents here as well. Set places for them at once! And anyone else who is here!" It was a request easily accommodated, as there were unset tables to either side of the one reserved for me—the ease with which setting were located made me thing that it had been anticipated that I would want everyone to be part of the dinner. I sat between Arianna and Eve, with Jauffrey second to my left. The six "Roman" girls took the table to the left, while the guards rotated taking part the dinner and being on the watch.

Once I was seated, the dinner procession began. Six other residents were the serving wenches for the event, and they streamed in and out of the kitchen with one plate after another. Even the chef had a special surprise for me—a new sauce from France he had learned of, and it was wonderful. There was enough food to feed the entire village; I didn't try to accomplish that, but I did send the leftovers over to the other hall for the nuns to enjoy.

During dinner, another entertainment had been arranged. Eve—apparently Maris had tapped her to be master of ceremonies, and a wise choice it was—announced it with the mysterious proclamation "O Great Caesar, for your dining pleasure we bring you entertainments from the farthest reaches of your empire."

I was skeptical at first when Luce walked out from the back room. Most of the accused witches were young women, but not all—spinsters, for instance, were at risk because being unmarried was itself odd and they tended not to have other people defend them in the back-room conversations where rumors begin. In age Luce was somewhere between my mother and ancient Sister Perpetua. She was wearing a loose Moorish robe and Bedouin headdress. She took up a position along the far wall across from me, then produced a wooden recorder from her loose sleeves. Luce began to play a strange, exotic melody, and as she did, another figure appeared in the doorway. She was shrouded from head to foot in loose, flowing, semi-sheer robes, such that only her eyes and bare feet were visible. She seeming floated along the back wall, fabric flowing almost cloudlike, as she moved to a position in the middle of the open floor before my table. She stood squarely on one foot, bending the other leg so only her toes touched the floor, and waited for the music to change. I was to be treated, it seemed, to the Dance of the Seven Veils. The dancer was not Salome of course, but though I could see but a patch of light brown skin and dark flashing eyes, I knew the dancer must be Kamilah.

There were tragic tales behind why most of the residents of the Abbey ended up here, but none perhaps as sad as Kamilah's story. Kamilah was an actual Moor, born and raised in Morocco, where she was met by a merchant seaman who fell madly in love with her. His route brought him back to Morocco three times a year, and their passion grew. Thus it was that on one of his returns, she informed him that she was carrying his child. The sailor loved her, and was prepared to stay in Morocco to support them—but her father, enraged that his daughter would defile the family name by consorting with foreigners, dragged her into the marketplace wielding a dagger, fully intending to execute her in the town square. The sailor's boat had fortunately not left; one of her friends raced to harbor to tell him. Enlisting his crewmates as support, he raced to the town square and faced off against the father—but no compromise could be reached, as neither spoke the other's language and Kamilah was in no position to translate. So he forcibly freed her, setting off a riot in the square that allowed them to escape to the harbor. The crew raced to port and pulled up anchor, sailing back as the mob yelled and lobbed rocks at them from the pier.

He stowed Kamilah in his hammock the entire return trip. Upon his return to the capital he married her and set about trying to support them working at the docks. This did not sit well with his family, however, not just because she was a Moor, and not just because they had desperately needed a dowry, but because in his absence they had arranged for him to marry someone else. For several years they lived so, estranged from all but beloved by each other, and she bore him two children in that time. But when the plague came, dockworkers were among the first to fall ill. He and much of his family perished. Kamilah and the children, however, did not fall ill, perhaps because of their Moorish blood. To his family, however, this was proof that Kamilah's witchcraft had caused the plague, and her in-laws themselves kidnapped the children and brought charges against Kamilah. With no one to turn to, she went to the only people she knew—the former shipmates of her husband, who told her she should escape to Averic. While the other residents saved their earnings in the hopes of establishing a dowry or perhaps opening a shop and leaving the abbey, Kamilah was in a more difficult place. All she wanted was to get her children back, but she faced execution as a witch if she tried to reclaim them, and she couldn't even return to Morocco, or she would be executed by her own family.

Like most of the other residents, however, since the facts of her life could not be changed, she made the best of where she was—being sad every day, even if understandable, is no way to live one's life. And this dance would be the most authentic ever witnessed in the kingdom—and it was just for me.

The music changed tempo, and Kamila began to twirl and sway. She had small cymbals attached to her finger, and using them she established a rhythm to punctuate the recorder music. It was hard to tell exactly what she was doing under all those veils, but that didn't last long, as soon after she started the first veil, an over-sheet covering most of her body, was sent floating towards the ground. Under it was a long veil like a skirt and another that covered her top, but there was a small strip at her belly where the two did not meet. And now that this could be seen, it was clear that her dance involved flexing and moving her belly in directions that did not seem humanly possible.

The next veil to come off had covered the top of her head, so that now her dark brown, curly hair could be seen. It was gathered up into a brass ring of sorts set close to the top of her head, then allowed to flow out again naturally on the other side. The ring, however, allowed her to snap her hair this way or that in rhythm with the music if desired.

The third veil had covered both of her arms; as she let the long, square rectangle go, her arms were bare to the shoulder. You could now see delicate movements accompanying the impossible gymnastics of the dance.

The fourth veil was rather like an overskirt. When she let it go, you could see she was wearing some strange sort of trousers that were flowing, loose and nearly sheer except for a golden, decorative border where they suddenly came together and held tightly to her ankles. The top of the pants could not be seen, however, as another veil was wrapped around her where her legs met her torso.

The fifth veil was wrapped around her torso. She was very slow and deliberate in unwrapping it from herself. She would hold open one side of the veil, spinning rapidly so that you could just glimpse the flesh underneath before she closed it and hid it away again. I understood now the fabled teasing power of the Dance of the Seven Veils—if she had danced like this for her late husband, and I'm sure she must have, I could see where no amount of family pressure could have dissuaded him from marrying her. But as I watched I hadn't realized how I entranced I was by the dance until I felt Eve's gentle fingers seeking and beginning to caress my manhood. I realized that there was a bite of food in my hand, halfway to my mouth, and that I had completely forgotten about it and had been frozen, rapt, for who knows how long. Eve must have noticed and known that if the erotic dance held the power to freeze the rest of me, it would certainly not have gone unnoticed by my phallus. I put the now-cold bite of food down to watch the rest of the dance.